How Do You Stay Married When one Spouse Leaves the Church? (and other questions we get asked)

 Apparently there's an anonymous questions trend going around..… I haven't tried it, but Matt and I have been asked LOTS of questions this year, so I thought I would answer some of those, but in a super lame Gen X format: my blog! I don't do tiny little answers that people can fit in a 30 second Insta story, so you'll just have to deal with a wordy blog post....

It's been an eventful year for our family. I'm sure we seem alien and confusing to our neighbors. Believe it or not, I'm finally learning not to care. (As I write this post explaining my family's choices…) So the questions are only natural, really. 

In addition to questions, we've dealt with many looks of disapproval or confusion over the past year. Plenty of radio silence from loved ones. There are those who talk behind our backs or those who distance themselves.  The speculative look, the conversations that cease when you walk up, you get the idea. (We really have experienced so much love and support, so it's not all that way.)

I find the questions refreshing, frankly. I love when people care enough to ask to my face. It means a lot to me.

Perhaps you, like they, wonder how I could leave the church and then turn around allow my daughter to be baptized into that same church that caused me so much pain?  Maybe you wonder how Matt could possibly stay married to someone who left the Church? What about my eternal family? Or how can I be out of the LDS Church and still support my missionary son? Or how can Matt and I support one another in differing churches? Or how can I still call myself a Christian while not subscribing to the inerrancy of the Bible? Or what the heck kind of crazy *progressive* theology have I adapted anyway? How do we even raise children like this?

Love. 

I love them. Matt loves them. We love each other. I trust their hearts. I trust how much they love Christ and how much they want to follow his example. I trust that God sees them and speaks to them RIGHT where they are. We don't try to missionary each other. OK, Laura... But, seriously, how can you support your LDS son on a mission when you don't believe the same??

Well, I also vividly know what it's like to be excluded from being a bridesmaid in my friend's wedding because my theology is no longer valid in her eyes. I know what it's like to have my loved one refuse to be my maid of honor because I am not the right kind of Christian anymore. I also know what it's like to exclude loved ones from my wedding in the name of religion only to deeply regret and grieve over that choice later in life. I know what it's like to be told I'm being led away by sinful teachers. I know what it's like to tell other Christians that I am in the "one true" Christian church and I have the fullness of the scriptures and my church has the ordinances they need to be with their family eternally. Or else.

 I know what it's like now to be both the one excluded and the one excluding others. I don't want to be either any longer. I support my loved ones because I know what it's like to NOT be supported AND because I know what it's like to withhold support on the basis of beliefs. (Even though I *thought* I was being loving and supportive by holding fast to my beliefs!) I don't think Jesus would do either. Neither one of those options teaches me to love like Christ. They both reek of pharisaical arrogance and I want so much to be done with that. I still, somehow, keep finding it in myself, though. I hope that everyone in our family will learn they are welcome and loved regardless of their spiritual beliefs. I hope they know they can ask questions and push back against theologies or doctrines that don't sit right with them.

Please know that we are doing this very imperfectly. I'm falling and getting back up over and over. I also want to make it clear that we don't do this successfully by avoiding hard conversations or by pretending the differences don't exist. We do it by speaking openly and kindly to one another, without defensiveness (as best we can). We do this by trying to ask ourselves and each other:

Who in our lives can we love better? 

Is it my friend who is gay? 

Is it my friend who is judgmental? 

Is it my friend who is in the middle of divorce? 

Is it my friend who has committed adultery and has been abandoned by all her friends? 

Is it my friend who is in faith crisis? 

Is it my friend who is terminally ill? 

Is it my friend who disagrees with me politically? 

Is it my friend with a transgender child? 

When our children see us *trying* to love others who are struggling or others who are different than us, it's so much easier to come home and unite on what we have in common and try to be more open and respectful of the differences. 

One of the many authors who has brought me comfort over the past few years is Rachel Held Evans:

“As the story goes…

The evangelist Phillip, was sent by the Holy Spirit  to the wilderness road from Jerusalem to Gaza. There, Philip encountered a royal Eunuch from the distant land of Ethiopia, who was reading Hebrew Scripture from the back of his chariot.  As a Eunuch, this man would have been strictly prohibited from entering temple grounds, much less participating in it’s rituals.  He was a sexual and ethnic minority, and as such would have been totally excluded from the religious community in Jerusalem; even if he believed in Israel’s God.  Had he approached the temple for baptism, he would have been turned away. Yet, this religious outcast, this man who was thought to be in a perpetual state of uncleanliness, had gotten his hands on a sacred scroll and found a passage from the prophet Isaiah that resonated profoundly with his own experience. 

Overcome, the Eunuch looked out at the rugged landscape that surrounded them and shouted, 

“Look!  Here is water!  What is to prevent me from being baptized?"....

At another time in his life, Philip might have pointed to the Eunuch's ethnicity, or his anatomy, or his inability to gain access to the ceremonial baths that made a person clean. But instead, with no additional conversation between the travelers, the chariot lumbered to a halt and Philip baptized the Eunuch in the first body of water the two could find.  It might have been a river, or it might have been a puddle in the road.  

Philip got out of God’s way. He remembered that What makes the gospel offensive isn’t who it keeps out, but who it lets in. 

Nothing could prevent the Eunuch from being baptized. For the mountains of obstruction had been plowed down, the rocky hills had been made smooth and God had cleared a path.  There was holy water everywhere. Two thousand years later, John’s (the Baptist) call remains a wilderness call; a cry from the margins.  Because we religious types are really good at building walls and retreating to temples.  We are good at making mountains out of our ideologies, obstructions out of our theologies, and hills out of our screwed up notions of who’s in and who’s out; who’s worthy and who’s unworthy. We’re good at getting in the way.  Perhaps we are afraid that if we move, God might use people and methods we don’t approve of; that rules will be broken and theologies questioned.  Perhaps we are afraid that if we get out of the way, this Grace thing might get out of hand.  Well, guess what? 

It already has.  Grace got out of hand the moment the God of the universe hung on a Roman cross and with outstretched hands, looked out at those who had hung him there and declared, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Grace has been out of hand for over two thousand years now.  We best get used to it.”- Rachel Held Evans

So, if our theology is attempting to obstruct others from God;  If our theology is excluding others from the grace of Christ by saying they worship Jesus the wrong way, or our church is excluding people from communing with God or witnessing a marriage in its temples, or saying they worship a different Jesus or they were sprinkled instead of immersed or they wore a t- shirt at their baptism instead of a white dress, or were they baptized by a woman instead of a male priest? If our theology is harming folks to the point that they can no longer believe in God and then teaching us to vilify those folks we harmed….

Yeah, I don't have time for that anymore. I don't want to be a part of that anymore. 

I have too many people to love. 

As I have poured over the words of Christ, the actions of Christ, the teachings of Christ over the past few years, I have been taken aback at how virtually every move he made was to include those on the margins.  The people he moved toward were OUTCASTS.  

His birth was announced to shepherds, one of the lowest and least respected professions of the time.

He sat and visited and accepted a drink from the woman at the well.  

He taught of the good Samaritan. 

He called the uber religious of his day VIPERS. 

He touched the woman with an issue of blood.  She would have been considered ceremonially unclean, but he reached down and touched her.

He healed the lepers.  

His crucifixion was witnessed by WOMEN because the men had all abandoned Him. 

His resurrection was first revealed to women. WOMEN.  Not men.

This process has been so interesting. I have lost Mormon friends and evangelical friends. But I have also found out who truly loves me for ME and not for my beliefs. I have learned who holds to the view that I am still not the *right* kind of Christian… 

But I am with Christ. I am in Christ.  I have always been with Christ.  No one, no church, no leader can take that from me. 

I get that my family may confuse you. My marriage may confuse you.  My theology may confuse you.  Because I don’t get my theology from you or your pastor or your prophet or your interpretation of scripture or their interpretation of scripture. I get my theology from Love.  I get my theology from God, who, as I memorized from the time I could speak, is in reality, LOVE.  And perhaps my theology frightens you because it is too expansive; it is too free; it is too wide.  But that is the God I worship. One who is bigger than our denominations or our sects or even our beliefs. 

My theology is this:  Through the person of Christ, God showed us how to become like God; to become LOVE. He walked, breathed and spoke radical love and acceptance to the outcasts.  He laid down His life as a symbol, a sign that IT IS FINISHED.  He showed us that the kingdom of heaven is HERE; that it can be in us NOW.  We can experience the kingdom of heaven now as we follow Christ’s teachings.  If I am overcome with guilt for saying a curse word under my breath on the frantic drive to the school pick up line, but I am not reaching out in love to accept my gay neighbor, my foster child, my hungry friend, my neighbor with depression, my neighbor with doubt, my grieving neighbor??

I am but a clanging cymbal. 

As Paul said, 

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.”  1 Corinthians 13:1

Does our theology emphasize order, structure, covenants, ordinances, liturgy, over the radical love and acceptance modeled by Christ?  If I have to choose one over the other, I hope I will choose love every time. Perhaps that is like jumping out of the safety of a fishbowl and into the vast wide ocean.  Perhaps it seems dangerous.  But I realized that the danger was really the loss of the approval of my community, not the loss of salvation.  I'm beginning to see that God’s grace is as vast as the ocean. Its wild beauty may seem frightening as you stare at the endless expanse of water. But the openness of God's love is the only safety I now crave. 

Sometimes I wonder how much I’ve missed because I haven’t bothered to look, because I wrote off that church or that person or that denomination because I assumed God to be absent when there is not a corner of this world that God has abandoned.- Rachel Held Evans

So, let me tell you a little secret:

God is with my Mormon Missionary Son.

The Holy Spirit was present at my daughter's LDS baptism. 

Christ was as present with me as I sat OUTSIDE the LDS temple during my niece's sealing as He was present for those inside the temple. 

Christ is with my mother in her Bible Fellowship church. 

God is with my neighbor on her Sunday morning hikes. 

God is with my loved ones in their conservative Christian church.

The Holy Spirit is ever present at the progressive church.

God has not abandoned my friends hurt so deeply by religion that they no longer believe God is there.

God's Spirit is with my Jewish neighbor, my Sikh neighbor, my Muslim neighbor as well. 

We want to put God in a box, to say that WE know God better than they do;  but God just doesn't fit in our boxes. 

And I for one, am so glad. 

God simply IS with us. We cannot do anything to make God love us more than He does right now. 

Grow as We Go

 This guy, y’all.  When he said forever, he meant it.  And so did I. This past year has been the hardest of my life and subsequently the hardest of our marriage. It’s amazing how walking through fire can mold us and weld us together stronger than even before.  I have cried until I thought all my tears were gone and I have prayed until my knees were numb and I have read and studied until I thought my head might explode.  23 years ago, I made a choice to join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Today, I am in the process of transitioning out of that Church I have loved so dearly for half of my life.   

A little over a year ago, I began reading a big fat history book and encountered some information regarding the origins of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints that was truly antithetical to the way that I need to worship God and follow Christ. (I will not get into the specifics of those issues here out of respect for all my LDS friends and family) Though I did not realize it at the time, I was thrown into the stages of grief.  Shock and Denial permeated my life.  I read more and more trying to find a way to disprove the information I had read, but every page I turned uncovered some new and unsettling piece of the puzzle.  The betrayal and grief were so deep that I sunk into depression. I reached out to my husband and one trusted friend, saw my doctor and plead with the Lord. After a few months of reading and praying, Matt and I decided I would put away all reading material other than scriptures and conference talks, etc… I read and prayed and journaled and my depression eased some.  But the issues sat in a heavy leaden box on a rickety shelf of my soul, threatening to break and destroy my beautiful life.    

This past April, a succession of events and revelations pulled my metaphorical shelf out of the wall, ripping out the screws and anchors and the box was shattered into a million dangerous shards.  Every breath I took was painful.  My depression returned full force, but this time it was accompanied by random panic attacks. Church leaders have sometimes indicated that this grief and depression is caused by a loss of the Holy Spirit.  I would like to very clearly state that such comments are hurtful and untrue. Perhaps especially because of my despair, I had some of the most poignant spiritual experiences in my life.  But either way, I don't believe in a God who would withdraw His Spirit from someone who is earnestly seeking truth.  I realized I had to dive in and study and decide where I stood.  After countless hours of prayer and scripture study and journaling and reading and studying and talking to my husband, the truth became painfully clear:  I do not belong in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints any longer.  This decision has not come lightly. Honestly, I hardly even feel it is a decision.  It is more like the facts and the history have forced me to this place.  This is not about spiritual laziness or having unrealistic expectations for church leaders. The only real decision was whether to be open about it and live authentically or to pretend.  And…. I don’t do pretend.  Keeping this under wraps for the past 5-6 months has been detrimental to my health and well-being.    

Matt and I have prayed and cried and talked for hours on end... The writing is on the wall: I cannot stay as I have in the past.  I hope that I will have a place in this community still, but if I don't, that is a price I will have to pay to be honest and true to my own beliefs and faith in God.  

My years in the Church have been beautiful.  I learned valuable lessons that have sculpted me into a disciplined wife and mother.  I have learned skills for prioritizing my family and for serving others.  In this church, I have learned wonderful habits for spiritual growth and have become closer Jesus. The Church has given me so much.   I will forever be grateful for those lessons and gifts.  

My years in the Church have also been perplexing.  I believed, with all my heart, in the truthfulness of the restored gospel.  I loved the Church and anyone who really knows me can tell you that when I love something or someone, I give EVERYTHING.  And I did so with the Church.  I was fiercely loyal to the Church.  I shared its message and trusted its leaders and defended it against detractors, some of whom were my dear friends and family.   As I look back, I don’t know how I could have given more to the Church. I poured my heart and soul into this Church because it was my way of following and serving God. In return, this Church has broken my heart. I have been devastated and broken for the past year.

So, you will see that my relationship with the Church is changing.  My relationship to religion and churches in general is changing.  I am sure it will be tempting for some to read this and assume this means I am running back to evangelical Christianity.  My faith transition has opened my eyes to the boxes we all place God in; we want so much to hold to the idea that WE have the correct understanding of God.  But what if God will speak to you whenever, wherever, and however you will listen?  What if He is bigger than all of our boxes? As Richard Rohr says, “God is always bigger than the boxes we build for God, so we should not waste too much time protecting the boxes.”

 I choose love. I choose love and radical acceptance of my evangelical friends and family and their way of following Christ.  I choose love and radical acceptance of my LDS friends and family and their way of following Jesus.  I choose love.  “When I think someone ought to be more loving, it’s usually me.”  Bob Goff

So, if you are an active, believing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I love you.  I respect you and your beliefs.  I no longer share many of those beliefs but I am still here and I still love you.  I have no desire to pull you away from the Church you love and that brings you peace.  If you have questions, please ask me.  I am an open book.  I am cautious about getting into the issues because every one has a right to their own journey and when, how or if they confront this difficult information. 

To my Evangelical Christian friends:  I love you.  This is not a call to arms.  I have seen and participated in much hate on both sides of this debate.  Having been in both worlds I can tell you with certainty, there are true, authentic followers of Jesus in both communities.  There are people laying their lives down to God and serving and following Him in both church communities. Please, please, please… LOVE your Mormon friends.  You do not need to believe as they do to love them. 

To my atheist/non-believing friends:  I think I am really starting to see you now.  I see how and why you may have come to the conclusions you have come to.  I respect you and I love you.  I see goodness and selflessness in you. I am grateful for all you give to love others and to accept them and to teach us how to break down the walls of religion that are creating division and hate instead of love.  

This idea of building bridges between faith groups and belief systems is something we are doing in our home each day.  We love each other and we respect one another’s beliefs.  That doesn’t mean we never challenge those beliefs, but it does mean we respect each other’s spiritual journeys.  Everyone deserves time, space and respect as they travel along in life. 

Matt and I did a thing.  The Marriage on a Tightrope podcast was like a lifeboat when we both felt we were drowning in the tsunami of my faith transition.  It is a podcast that focuses on support for marriages where one spouse has experienced a shift in spiritual or religious beliefs. By some beautiful providence, Matt and I chose Grow as We Go as our new song and later learned that it also happens to be the current theme song for the MOAT podcast:

“You won't be the only one I am unfinished, I've got so much left to learn. I don't know how this river runs, But I'd like the company through every twist and turn. Who said it's true That the growing only happens on your own? They don't know me and you. You don't ever have to leave If to change is what you need; You can change right next to me. When you're high, I'll take the lows You can ebb and I can flow. And we'll take it slow And grow as we go.”

Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

This journey has been a refiner's fire, but I can honestly say that I am so grateful to be married to this man and that I look forward to eternity with him. So, if you'd like to hear more of our story (than this painfully long post already shares), listen to parts 1 and 2 here:

Marriage on a Tightrope Episode 109-laura-and-matt-hunter-part-1/

Marriage on a Tightrope.org/2021/10/marriage-on-a-tightrope-110-laura-and-matt-hunter-part-2/

FAQs:

• What about your husband and children?  

I can truly say that this experience has brought us closer together and taught me things about marriage I never knew or understood before. We are learning to love each other fully, completely and without pretense. Matt has been an amazing support and comfort through the grief of the past year.  This entire process has been deeply painful for him and I am humbled and honored to have his continued support. He has not gone through the same process I have and is staying in the LDS church.  I love him and support him in that.  Because of that, I will often attend our ward with my family.  Please feel free to listen to the attached podcast for more about our story and how we have processed all this together.  My children will attend church much of the time, but eventually they will attend other churches with me as well.  Most importantly, they will be given the freedom to choose how to pursue their own relationship with God and we do not want them to be treated like missionary projects. Love them, invite them, but please don’t try to “save” them.  We teach of and testify of Jesus and love in our home.  We read scriptures together, we pray together and we share with them our beliefs and we will give them the freedom to learn and choose and grow.

• What about your son on a mission? 

 I am bursting with pride over my son and his choice to serve a mission.  He is putting his entire life on hold for two years and giving his all to share Jesus with others, to serve others and to love others.  He has wanted to serve a mission his entire life and I choose to support him and love him.  He is growing so much spiritually and personally. If you see a missionary on the street or on your doorstep, BE KIND. Buy them a lemonade.  They live on the CHEAP. These are beautiful human beings giving service and sharing what they believe for two years, and one of them happens to mine.  Don’t want to hear their message?  No problem. You can still BE KIND.  

• What DO you believe now?  

Well, I am learning to be VERY comfortable with the words, “I don’t know.” There is so much I don’t know about the Bible and its historicity, but I am studying and learning more about the Bible every day.  Despite what I don’t know or understand, I DO believe in Christ.  I do believe in His grace and His mercy and His teachings.  Every day, I am embracing God’s love for me more fully and without any restrictions or qualifications. I feel a little more of His peace every day and I am excited for what the future brings.  

• Why am I sharing this publicly?

A few reasons:

- I have been outspoken and perhaps even zealous in sharing my belief in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in the past.  I have shared those beliefs here on social media and elsewhere.  It felt wrong to walk away quietly without explanation.  Sharing that I have had a change in belief seems like a way to maintain my integrity and live authentically.  I am owning my story, warts and all. 

- I know people will talk and come up with a variety of explanations for why I am transitioning away from the church.  I can’t control what others think of me or what kinds of speculations they spread to others.  This is one moment where you can hear my story from me.  (As previously mentioned, if you have more specific questions, I am totally willing to answer those.) I am an open book, but I am not on a mission to lead others out of the LDS church.  It is a beautiful faith community filled with lovely people who genuinely want to come closer to God. 

- I now know there are thousands upon thousands of people who have been through an experience like the one I describe above.  For all those thousands of individuals, I have never once seen someone openly acknowledge a faith crisis or faith shift publicly (at least in my sphere of friends and followers and church friends).  I hope to share my story to remove some of the stigma and shame, even infinitesimally. 

- Most importantly, this faith shift has been the most isolating, devastating, and difficult experience of my life.  For many of the hardest parts of this journey, it was just me and God. There were days where I thought I would lose everyone and everything if I opened up about this struggle. If it weren't for one dear, close friend who I eventually opened up to about all of my experiences and struggles, I don't know if I would be here today.  If you are experiencing anything similar, I’m here. DM me.  Text me.  Text SOMEONE. You are not alone.  And you know what?  Even after all this, I still believe that God is with you.  “I have never been separate from God, nor can I be, except in my own mind.” – Richard Rohr

"For the first time, it dawned on me: there’s a difference between doubting God and doubting my understanding of God, just as there’s a difference between trusting God and trusting my understanding of God. Would I be able to doubt my understanding of God while simultaneously trusting God beyond my understanding? In a strange way, that question for the first time in my life allowed me to see God as a mystery distinct from my concepts of God." -Brian McLaren, Faith After Doubt

Breath of Heaven: To Foster Mamas at Christmastime

Foster Parenting has changed me.  It's surreal to look back on the person I was before our amazing adoption journey.  This morning, during our Church Christmas party, we listened to "Breath of Heaven" by Amy Grant as we watched the nativity play out. I have loved this song for years; have been so moved at the fear and trembling Mary must have experienced as she tried to fulfill the calling God placed upon her.
It made me think of other mothers in the trenches.  Other mothers "carrying" children who are partly ours, but partly not. These foster mamas who are giving all they have to their Father in Heaven. Mothers raising children who they may eventually lose only to fulfill God's ultimate plan of redemption. The lyrics brought me to a standstill as I remembered my own journey and thought of your other beautiful warrior mamas battling unknown futures and laying your lives down for His plan:

I have traveled many moonless nights

Cold and weary with a babe inside

And I wonder what I've done

Holy Father, you have come

and chosen me now to carry your son

I am waiting in a silent prayer

I am frightened by the load I bear

In a world as cold as stone

Must I walk this path alone?

Be with me now

Be with me now

Breath of Heaven

Hold me together

Be forever near me

Breath of Heaven

Lighten my Darkness

Pour over me your holiness

For you are Holy

Do you wonder as you watch my face

If a Wiser one should have had my place?

But I offer all I am

to the mercy of your plan

Help me be strong

Help me be 

Help me

Breath of Heaven

Hold me together 

Be forever near me

Breath of Heaven

Lighten my Darkness

Pour over me your holiness

For you are Holy

Mary stands as an example to us all.  We parent these precious children, sometimes just for a season, offering our sacrifice to He who knows all.  Mary must have wondered what would happen to her precious boy.  She must have worried for his future and ached at the thought of her perfect child bearing the sin and grief and weight of all mankind.  Mary fulfilled the role of mother regardless of what the future held.  And so must you, foster Mama.  Just as Our Holy Father held Mary's future, so does He hold the future of our precious foster loves.  Carry On, warrior mamas.  Let Him hold you together.  Let his holiness pour over you as you offer yourself to His children.

The Prince of Peace is asking hard things of you.  You are His Hands and His feet and that means you have HIS strength.  May you feel His peace as we celebrate His coming. May the children in your home feel His peace through your love.  Bless you all.

If Nothing Ever Changed, There Would Be No Butterflies...

Two years ago today, God made me a Momma again.  It didn't happen in the conventional way, and it was significantly more painful than childbirth.  I tell the story of that day: March 30, 2016 in THIS post.

At that time, I wasn't allowed to post pictures of our girls online.  I have considered sharing pictures of that day with you... pictures to document the transformation I have been honored to watch over the past two years, but I never felt quite right about it.  The week the girls came to us was one of the most traumatic weeks of their little lives.  I think back to the most difficult days of my life and wonder if I would want pictures of that day posted on the internet by someone else... I don't know.

I will share just one.  One picture from those first few days that still warms my heart when I see it.  When the girls were removed, Lanaye (Luna) was desperately ill.  She was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia and April (Sunshine) was taken to The Christmas Box House.  So, just after having been forcibly removed from the only people they knew, our girls were separated from one another.  I stayed with Lanaye in the hospital for two days before April was well enough for us to come and get her.  Lanaye was angry and frightened and so very sick.  She had not smiled one single time in those first 55 hours.  She refused to eat or drink... and we were worried that she didn't have the will to fight her illness.  I brought April to the hospital to see her and her face LIT UP!  She smiled and bounced on Matt's lap and reached for her big sister.  Here they are just a few moments later:

Y'all.  I cannot look at that picture without my heart bursting wide open.  These two sisters have such a special, incredible bond.  I thought back to our desire to adopt "one" child.... How grateful I am that God changed our hearts!   

While I don't want to exploit those first traumatic days and hours in any way, I will share some pictures of their first month here.  Smiling, happy girls- adjusting to life in a home, with their own beds; safe and warm and loved.  

  I have been pondering all the ways our family has changed in the past two years; as a whole and each of us as individuals.  I stand, completely in awe of what God has done.  He has healed their bodies and is healing their minds and hearts day by day.  He took a family who sat comfortably in abundance and moved us toward pain and hardship. He literally transformed us.  Jason Johnson is a Christian Adoptive and Foster Parent who ministers to other Christian Foster Parents.  I love his words here about Moving toward the Broken... it's just two minutes!

 I see the entire world differently now... these precious girls and their baby sister changed. us.  

We most certainly are NOT a finished work.  This is not a "happily ever after" story, free from pain or heartache. There will be years of work and effort and tears ahead. But we have seen mighty miracles and we know that He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it.  

 " And now, my beloved brethren, after ye have gotten into this strait and narrow path, I would ask if all is done? Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for ye have not come thus far save it were by the word of Christ with unshaken faith in him, relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save. "  II Nephi 31:19

This picture makes me grin from ear to ear!

I share this with you today, this Good Friday, for one reason:  The Savior of the World did this.  He transformed a family.  He pulled three babies from brokenness and placed them in safety.  He is the Transformer of Lives.  I look at these beautiful girls and what safety, love, nurturing and provision did to transform them.  This story is a teeny-tiny, itty-bitty little microcosm of what Christ's love does to broken lives.  Every single beautiful and painful transformation that took place in our story was powered by the grace of Jesus Christ.  He is the hero of our story.  And so, on this Easter Weekend, exactly two years after these magnificent girls came roaring into our lives, we want to testify of Him!  He Lives!

He lives to grant me rich supply.

He lives to guide me with his eye.

He lives to comfort me when faint.

He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears.

He lives to wipe away my tears.

He lives to calm my troubled heart.

He lives all blessings to impart.

The Day My Daughter Was Born

Our little laughing Lanaye turns 4 on Tuesday! 

I bet you could tell me the whole story of the day your child was born; what you were wearing, what you were doing when you realized you were in labor.  I have stories for all three of my big kids.  Isaac's easy, by-the-book birth; Daphne's dramatic, rushed arrival, seven minutes after the ambulance dropped us at the hospital; Victoria was my breach baby, born by mandatory and traumatic C- section.  I can tell you all about the details of those days.

But what if you had no idea?  What if you were driving along down the road and a few cities away at exactly 9:01 am, your future daughter was born?

I suppose that is why I have been so preoccupied with the births of our three littlest girls.  I can tell you every detail of the days they came to be in our family. (Here and Here) But I have been day dreaming about the days they were born; the days they took their first breaths...  What were the rest of us doing?

I foraged through my journals for answers. (This is the moment where I kick myself for not writing more regularly and in more detail.)  I have searched my emails, my lesson plans, my Facebook posts to find out what that day was like.  How I wish I could go back and know exactly what we were doing!  But alas, here is what I have pieced together:

On Tuesday November 02, 2010 at 9:01 am, I was at Weber State University, just beginning my preschool class alongside my student teacher, Susan.  We were teaching about Fall that week.  I can name a handful of children from that class. Victoria was 2 and a half, so she was down the hall going to her toddler classroom. It was election day- I voted.  The Republican Party picked up 63 seats in the House, 6 in the Senate and 29 governorships.  I remember watching the news and thinking how fickle we are as a country... two years before we had elected Barack Obama.  We change our minds so quickly. Matt and I were having our house appraised.  Daphne was in first grade and Isaac was in third grade.  A few days before, we had all dressed up as the gang from Scooby Doo for Halloween.

Guess what, Shaggy and Velma?!  Your daughter was just born!  

And across the valley, at a hospital in Salt Lake City, our daughter was born.  She weighed 7 lbs, 1 oz and had a head full of dark hair and the most precious cheeks!  She was given a different first name and of course, a different family name.  But she was also given the middle name of April.  Five years later, she would stand in our kitchen and demand to be called April.  And so here she is, our precious April Joy on the day of her birth:

A special shout out to the girls' biological aunt for sending these pictures to me.  They are precious treasures!!

 And 5 1/2 years later, she came bounding into our lives.  I know that those first five years are part of her story.  I know some about them that she probably doesn't know or understand yet and she knows things about those years that I will never know or understand.  It's all part of her story.  But I want you to know, dear April, that you are our family now, too.  We love you forever and always and will try to be the parents you deserve and need. When we changed your name, it was first and foremost to honor your wishes. You were insistent that we call you April.  We love you, April Joy!

On Thursday, January 23, 2014 at 5:55 pm, Matt and I were rushing around trying to get to Isaac's junior high basketball game.  We talked about how we had so much going on I wouldn't be able to cook. I had book club that night.  Isaac was in 6th grade, Daphne was in 4th grade and Victoria was in kindergarten!    I don't know a whole lot about that day.  But I know I shared this video on Facebook:

How amazing is that?! How beautiful that the birth mommy of our girls chose life!?  How perfect that when we asked God how we could help these babies, he sent us down this path?  I see now that we best support women in crisis pregnancies by showing them love, support and stable adoptive homes for children.

While searching my journals, I found this entry from the week Lanaye was born:

And God was probably like, "Hahaha!!  You have three more babies coming, lady!"

My heart warmed to know that the very moment my daughter was born, I was mourning the loss of baby days...  I had no idea that thirty minutes away, at a hospital in Salt Lake City, our tiny little Lanaye was born. She was 6 pounds exactly and faced some complications, but had head a head full of luscious dark hair and the sweetest face!  Her nose is trademark Naye-Naye- Look at that perfect baby!!

I had to do some detective work to find a baby picture of Lanaye.  I tracked down the photography company that took the pictures at the hospital where she was born, provided documentation about our adoption and got to order birth pics of our baby!! 

Isaac, Daphne and Tori- just a few weeks after their little sister, Lanaye, was born!

On the morning of January 19th, 2017, I woke to a text message from our caseworker that made my heart leap:

"She had the baby around 5 this morning. :) The dad texted me around 5:30.  He said Mom and the baby are doing great."  She weighed 6 lbs. 8 oz. and was born with the cord wrapped around her neck and had swallowed meconium.  She was whisked away for special care, but was fine and dandy just a few minutes later!  

We took the girls to the hospital to meet their baby sister.  When we arrived, the bio mom handed Lillie to me and laid down.  I took over, letting the girls feed her a bottle, changing her diaper, singing to her and bouncing her.  Their bio mom even said to me: "I'd just let you keep her if they'd let me."

Of course, as I shared in THIS post, we didn't bring Lillie home that weekend.  Despite the birth parents not being safe enough for April and Lanaye, the State left Lillie in their care for another four months.  

Lillie (you had a different name at birth, but it was EXTREMELY similar to Lanaye's and proved to be too tricky for me to keep straight!)  We chose to name you after Matt's beautiful grandmother, Lillie Blue Hunter, whose Catawba heritage enabled us to adopt you.  Grandma Hunter was full-blooded Catawba Indian, she had a special innocence about her; and something in your face reminds us of her! 

Near our adoption date, Matt shared these pictures from Lillie's birth. I got chills when I saw them again-  How blessed was I to hold my daughter on the day of her birth?!  Last January, we truly had no idea what the future held for our family.  We did not fully realize that this was the day our daughter was born.  And here we are, one year later... reveling in the gorgeous family that is ours:

 I laugh now when I think how I spent the past 2.5 years telling God what our future should be, imagining a different path than the one on which He led us.  But although our youngest three joined us through an unconventional and painful method, I wouldn't change a thing.  As I mentioned when we first started this journey HERE, sometimes heartbreak is beautiful:

April, Lanaye and Lillie-  We cannot begin to express our gratitude and joy at being your parents.  We know that the way you joined our family also meant a great loss for you.  We hope to always honor your feelings about that; to acknowledge the tremendous loss.  We are grateful to your birth parents for choosing to give you life during a dark time in their lives.  We are grateful that they chose to bow out and give you a hopeful future rather than dragging all of us through a terrible court battle that would have caused you more pain and just delayed the inevitable.  We are grateful that they tried for you.  We hurt that their addictions proved too powerful.  We thank them for trying; for every tear they wiped, every meal they served, every blanket placed over you... we hurt for you and for them because we know they love you and they wanted to be safe for you.  We pray that we will be the parents you deserve; that you will know that you went from wanted to wanted, from loved to loved.